A Whole New Light
by CUIntheair
Summary: What went through Castiel's head when he woke up human after Van Nuys? What went through his head on his way to rejoin the Winchesters? This is the story of his bus trip, please review!
1. Chapter 1

A Whole New Light

Chapter One- Waking up

"Angel, Angel, ain't it good to be alive? Angel, Angel, you can't say we never tried." - Rolling Stones

Author's Note: Yes, I know that this is a misquote of the lyrics. However, when listening to the song it is almost impossible to believe that Mick Jagger is saying "Angie." Additionally, this re-write fits with the story better. Believe me, it'll make sense by the end.

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Castiel's first thought as he returned to consciousness was, "Whoa, my head." his second thought was, "Did I just use the term 'Whoa'?"

The angel felt _very _strange. He tried to gather his thoughts together before opening his eyes. What was the last thing he remembered? Castiel's attempts at focusing his memory proved useless. He was distracted by a most horrible feeling in his chest. Castiel then noticed that he was experiencing several strange feelings. He opened his eyes. Yellow and white all around him. Yellow walls, white floors, white bed sheets, and white machines. The white lab coat of a doctor, reading a chart a few feet in front of him.

Castiel was flooded with panic. Hold on, panic? Angels don't have emotions, even as he had lost his powers his ability to feel had not increased enough for panic. If only his body would stop hurting long enough for him to process everything that was going on. What was the matter with him? He had never had such a hard time composing himself. Then it hit him: Van Nuys. He had carved a banishing symbol into his own chest. That was stupid. Castiel could stand it no longer, something felt _wrong _within himself. He tried jumping out of the hospital bed, but didn't make it very far before the wires and tubes he was hooked up to stopped him. The movement caused the young doctor to call out for a nurse. Cas tried to teleport out of the hospital room, but instead found that the effort made him feel ready to pass out again. The angel felt confused, but not the minor confusion that he had grown used to, he felt tired and sore and scared out of his mind. He..._felt._

The doctor lunged forward, trying to keep Castiel still. A nurse came in and injected something in Cas's arm. He felt his body start to go limp. His fears receded, but uneasily. His mind was screaming at him that something was wrong, but his body was putting his brain to sleep. His last thought was, "Sleep? Angels don't sleep."

That was when, after countless millennia, Castiel the angel had his first dream. It was mostly nonsense mixed with memories. When Castiel woke up, he immediately began to forget it. After just a few minutes the only thing he could remember from it was seeing Anna, the look in her eyes right before she ripped out her Grace. Her look had haunted Cas for a long time, it made sense to him that it would haunt his dreams. The fact that he had had a dream, that he had fallen asleep, that was what didn't make sense to the angel. The image of Anna's face again entered his mind. It was the most pain he had ever seen in an angelic face, but it was nothing compared to how she looked at him when she was human. Suddenly everything finally clicked into place in his mind. Human.


	2. Chapter 2 Radio Riot

Chapter Two- Radio Riot

It seemed to Castiel that his ability to feel what his vessel felt had gone from a mild echo to total awareness. Being in his vessel was no longer like looking through a periscope, but rather through his own eyes. It was a difficult adjustment, though at the moment it seemed like the least of his worries. He found he now had the full range of human emotions, and was sorting through at least a dozen at the moment. Cas scratched at a bug bite on his arm. Angels don't get itchy, so he found this the most important of his problems for a few minutes before he realized that it caused him no serious harm. He felt shell-shocked as the word "Human" kept running through his mind.

Perhaps it was his millennia of being a soldier, or maybe it was the friendship he had built with the Winchesters, but Cas didn't allow himself very much time to dwell on his fate before becoming proactive. He found a remote control lying next to him, with a nurse call button. Within a few minutes a nurse what at his side, with a big needle just in case he tried getting out of bed again. He had a rather short conversation with her, mainly just finding out where he was and how he had gotten there. He may have offended her with his impatience for answers, but he didn't particularly care at the moment.

Once the nurse left, he painfully reached over to a telephone next to the hospital bed. While he listened to the ringing sound on the line, he took a deep breath, composing himself as much as possible. After the second ring, he was confronted by a slightly peeved sounding, "Hello."

"Dean."

"Cas?" The nickname elicited a sigh from Castiel. He was in a strange position, comforted by the knowledge that he had friends, but still unused to and completely against the humanity that those friends had instilled into him. Dean continued talking, "We all thought you were dead, where the Hell are you, man?"

Cas looked around, this was going to be difficult to admit to. "A hospital."

"Are you okay?"

He hesitated for just a second, but what use was pride? "No."

"You wanna elaborate?" Dean was clearly not in the best of moods.

Though it hurt him to say it, Castiel pushed forward, "I just, woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised they thought I was brain-dead." It was true, the nurse had told him they were going to pull some sort of plug had he not woken up.

"S-so a, a hospital..." Dean wanted an explanation, oh well, here goes.

"Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious on a shrimping boat off Delacroix... I'm told it upset the sailors."

"uh, well, I gotta tell you, man, you're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box."

"How?-urgh" The news had caused Castiel to sit up, in turn causing him more pain. He already missed his angelic healing.

"It's a long story but, look, we're going after pestilence. Now. So if you wanna, zap over here..."

There went those human emotions again, why was passing along basic information so difficult? Telling his friends that he had become a useless burden caused him so much shame. "I can't zap anywhere."

"What do you mean?"

"You could say my batteries are-are drained." It may have been more correct to say _removed_, but Castiel wasn't quite ready to deal with that.

"Wha- you mean you're out of Angel mojo?"

"I'm saying that I am thirsty, and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it. I-I'm saying that I'm just, incredibly" The words wouldn't come, the air just hissed out of his mouth.

"...Human." Dean sounded awestruck. The word made Castiel feel exasperated and overwhelmed, he sighed again. Dean continued, "Wow...sorry."

"Well my point is, I can't go anywhere without money for...an airplane ride...and food. More pain medication, ideally." Cas felt horrible for asking so much. He felt useless and weak, and worst of all, Dean had obviously not said Yes to Michael. Cas had had no faith in his friends and was now asking for help.

"Alright, well, look, no worries. Uh-Bobby's here, he'll wire you the cash."

"Dean, wait... you said no to Michael. I owe you an apology.

"Cas, it's okay."

"You are not the burnt, and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be."

"...thank you...I appreciate that"

"You're welcome." Castiel felt so much better. He was proud of his friend, and happy that the world hadn't ended yet. But these positive feelings were short-lived. The nurse had told him that a doctor would take one last look at him within the hour and then he was free to go. As he waited, his new emotions seemed to all be on test-run at the same time. Anger, impatience, sadness, frustration. Not to mention the physical differences he was still getting used to.

While he waited, Castiel continually rubbed his hands together, feeling his fingers. He felt the sensation on his skin. He had never been able to feel so much through Jimmy's body before, and it was confounding. He didn't want to be human, it didn't feel natural for him. He felt his first waves of denial and hope rush through him as he thought of Anna's reascension, perhaps he was not doomed to be mortal after all. The more he thought about it though, the less likely that seemed. Anna had ripped her Grace out, allowing it to land, untarnished, waiting for her to find it again. His own Grace had withered, torn, and flickered out. He had no hope of ever going home, or even being in his own body again.

There was a radio beside his bed. He turned it on, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. Maybe being human would increase his understanding of why people listened to music. The radio was already tuned to a station, and a song played. He listened to about thirty seconds of it. Dean had once told him that music helps people feel better. Castiel listened to the lyrics. "Will your system be all right, When you dream of home tonight..." The song continued until a line came up, that definitely affected Cas's mood. The line asked, "Are we human?" He clenched his fists.

Castiel decided that he didn't like music. The nurse later found the radio in tiny pieces under the bed.


	3. Chapter 3 You're Either On the Bus

Chapter Three- You're Either On The Bus...

By the time Cas had gotten out of the hospital, found his way to a Greyhound station, and finally worked out the bus route maps he was already far beyond frustrated with his newfound limitations. The bus trip would take sixteen hours, and after all of that he would have to walk through Sioux Falls up to Bobby's house. By that time he would be far too late to help the Winchesters fight Pestilence. He now faced a decision, something that he was not used to, he could either take the bus directly to Iowa, and the town where Pestilence was or go to Bobby's and miss the fight. If he went to Bobby's he'd be able to grab some weapons and a good dose of the old hunter's wisdom, as well as be able to rest. Castiel was still in a good amount of pain, and his body ached to go with that plan.

On the other hand, he could go directly to Pestilence and possibly make it in time to help. How he would help he had no idea, with no powers, no weapons, and no idea how much he could push his suddenly human limits before crashing. This train of thought disgusted him, maybe it was a little flash of denial, he wasn't exactly sure, but he hopped on the bus for Des Moines, deciding to get to the fight whether he felt useful or not. Surely there was some small portion of what he once was hiding within him.

As he boarded the bus, the dozen or so occupants looked up at him curiously. Castiel was truly beginning to hate human feelings. He felt embarrassed by their looks, self-conscious. They soon looked away, bored again, but he went directly to the back of the bus to avoid any future staring. He sat down and fidgeted for a moment, doubting this decision already. Why had he done this to himself? He had destroyed a perfectly good existence, for what? Internal self-flagellation? This torment of humanity, this weakness of mortality, hurt him as much as it helped him. Cas would have spent the entire bus ride locked in mental warfare had he not been interrupted then.

A hand brushed against his shoulder; Castiel looked up to see who it belonged to and found himself confronted by a pair of dark eyes.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?" The young woman gestured to the other side of the long bench that was the backseat. The man that had been an angel nodded, tongue-tied. She sat down, swung her legs into the aisle and turned to him.

"I'm Jordan. ", she smiled genuinely, but after a few moments without response, her smile faltered. Castiel hazarded a glance in her direction, unsure of why she was talking to him, she laughed softly,

"The general reply to that is ' I'm Henry' or whatnot." She tilted her head a little and continued to smile at him. He felt more awkward every moment.

"I'm C-... Cas." He didn't feel he deserved his full name anymore, "Cas" held no meaning, and that was fine with him.

"Well... Cas, what's waiting for you in Iowa that's given you the look of doom?" This woman never ceased to smile! Concern crossed her face, but her mouth still hitched up in the corners. Somehow she still looked sincere. Her voice was soft, and flowed around her words effortlessly. Castiel turned to face her. She had softly curling light brown hair that wound it's way down her back, weathered jeans and a pale blue top. He was aware of this, aware of how pretty she was, even aware of how very close they sat, but the only thing that held his attention, that transfixed him, was her eyes. They were dark brown, and as pretty as the rest of her, but they seemed unnaturally deep, ancient with knowledge of pain and joy. There was wisdom in those eyes, and they seemed to cut right into his heart, staring out at him from such a young face. He stammered uselessly for a moment, attempting to answer her question, but his voice faded away. He looked back up at her with a haunted stare.

Somehow his response seemed all the answer she needed, "So, you headed to or from? Or are you in the sticky bit?" She held a knowing look, an understanding, and her face seemed to quietly echo Castiel's own pain. She still smiled, but now it was watery with her own bitterness.

"What do you mean?" His voice was gruff with barely contained emotion. He turned his face away from her, looking coldly ahead.

"You know what I mean. You left. I don't know where it was, or even what it was exactly you were up against, but you left home." She spoke quietly, completely sure of herself. Cas glanced back at her in surprise.

"How do you know?" His eyes bored into her, desperate for help, for understanding.

"I know, Cas, because I went through the same thing." Those ancient, piercing brown eyes of hers met his stare, and his human heart felt as if it had stopped. Could she really know? What _was _she?

The bus started up, and rumbled it's way onto the road.


	4. Chapter 4 Disownment

Chapter Four- Disownment

Jordan ran a hand through her hair, appearing to search for the right words. Castiel struggled to breathe calmly. After a few seconds of painful silence, he sighed. That seemed to confirm something to her.

"Was it family, work, or both?" she asked, full of concern again. He gave her a confused look. "With me it was family. It broke my heart, but... they stood together, and it was for something that I couldn't agree with. I had to leave, I know it sounds kinda cliched but I had to follow my heart."

Castiel was glad that she needed no prodding to talk, she didn't ask for his input, and he was glad of it. He wasn't used to holding conversations with humans that weren't Winchesters (or at least honorary Winchesters like Bobby). He had also begun to calm down. He had feared for a moment that this was an angel about to kill him for disobeying. Irrational, because he could see angels for what they were, even when inside vessels, but human emotions were irrational. His insides squirmed at that word again. He glanced up to see Jordan's worried eyes.

"It was quite recent wasn't it? When you left. I'm going to guess that you left family; divorced or disowned?"

Cas hung his head, she was quite perceptive, "You could call it disownment."

"Did you do what was right?" This woman was straight to the point.

"I... took the path that seemed just. Looking back, the consequences of that..." How could he put to words the depths to which he had fallen? He had disobeyed, he had sinned, he had doubted. He was no servant of the Most High. He looked back at her, and saw that she had moved closer, she put her hand on his arm, smiling sadly.

"It gets better. Believe me. I come from a family of judges and lawyers, with a few cops and a marine sprinkled in. All pessimists of humanity. Assume the worst, judge harshly, don't get involved. When I went to nursing school, they laughed at me. Asked me how many people I would save, how many that deserved to die." She sighed, " They really are dicks, every one of them, but they are still my family, and it hurt to leave." She paused a moment, looking at the floor, "The hardest part was feeling so separated, they had made most of my decisions for me, even when I was grown. It was so easy to do as I was told, not to have to weigh each decision. After I left, I was... lost for a long while. I almost went back on more than one occasion. All I could think about was family love and fewer worries. Distance sure blinds you to how crappy places can be."

"Yes it does." Castiel consented, thinking about being dragged back to Heaven when he had tried to warn Dean about the final seals. It had been awhile since he had thought of that. In his despair at being so cut off, he had nearly forgotten why he had left. This girl was very right. They locked eyes once again.

"I'll tell you one thing, take the easy way." The hand she had placed on his arm slid down, and rested on his own hand. He was surprised at how comforting her touch was. Surprised at the emotions welling up within him. It was not anything base. She could see he was broken, and she accepted that, understood it even. She knew he was in pain, and it hurt her to see it. He was thankful.

He had been a soldier for too long, even with the Winchesters, there was a battle at hand. Team Free Will, and to Hell with anything else. They seemed to forget constantly that to him it wasn't just a fight against some army of assholes, he had abandoned his family, had murdered his brothers. He felt he was doing the right thing, but he couldn't say for certain and there was absolutely no real justice in it. There was certainly no peace or understanding. There was doubt, and pain. He looked up, back to Jordan's quiet, brown eyes.

"There's an easy way?" His voice nearly broke, the pleading look on his face made all the more heartbreaking by the pain in his blue eyes.

"Easier way." she amended, "I guess it depends on your perspective. You left for a reason. You can't forget that. You are on this bus either heading towards them, or towards the person that you want to be. Now, to figure out the easiest way for you," She squeezed his hand reassuringly, "Think about how you feel. You can't go back in time, you can't undo leaving. You're gone, and something like that changes a person." She had no idea how right she was, "If you could go back right now, could you be the same son, or brother that they wanted you to be?"

Could he go back? back to the quiet unquestioning loyalty, back to the "need-to-know" basis that ran things in Heaven. Could he be their soldier? Their puppet, with no thoughts of his own? Castiel suffered in his degraded state, he longed for the peace that was once his, but the more he thought about it, the less it seemed like peace. It had been mindlessness. He knew he could never go back to Heaven, even if they would let him, it would be torturous to be so empty again. It would hurt worse than all the pain he was in now. He couldn't go back.

"No." the finality of that word calmed him. One less thing to regret. Leaving was necessary.

"Alright, if you can't go back, then can they compromise? Can you find a middle ground?"

"No." This time his voice held sadness, he thought of his brothers and sisters, his comrades-in-arms, and knew that every one of them would try to kill him. They were angels, if they missed him at all it was a very mild echo of his amplified feelings for them.

"Well, if you can't go back, and they won't compromise, then you need to try to live your life as best you can. Be the person that you want to be, save the world, start a rebellion, or kill the umpire. It's up to you at this point." She smiled at him, the warmth of her hand seemed to flood through Castiel. He looked down to see that their fingers were entwined. He didn't understand. He didn't know how to respond. He did know that every time he looked at her, he got caught off guard by her gaze. He looked again.

"Thank you." He spoke solemnly. Her smile brightened, and his heart beat faster. He had never before looked at a human woman this way. Before, they had all been beautiful works of art made by his father. Now, it seemed like she was the true art, a detailed painting where the other people had been only quick sketches.

"You never answered my question though," Her voice was softer, "What's in Iowa?"

Castiel sighed, "There are some friends of mine... that need more help than I can give them. But, as it is, I am the only help they have." His momentary uplift in mood left him at that point. He could do nothing to help against Pestilence. His weakness sickened him. He felt Jordan move closer to him, now holding his hand with both of hers.

"Cas, look at me." He looked, and saw the empathy on her face, "Now, I know I just met you, but please don't sound so sad. I'm sure you are more than enough help for them." She meant it. It was impossible to remain despondent when someone so obviously cared. Cas gave her a small smile, still unused to feeling this much.

"What do you have in Iowa?" He asked her quietly, as he looked at their interlaced fingers, his head tilted to the side in his customary thinking gesture.

"I'm transferring to a hospital up there. Pretty boring actually." Her peaceful laugh warmed the bus. Castiel realized he was smiling. It was strange how scattered his thoughts could become now. How easily he could be distracted from the problem at hand. A thought crossed his mind, maybe it wasn't just anything that could distract him.


	5. Chapter 5 Earth Angel

Chapter Five- Earth Angel

For a few moments, Castiel was content to remain still. Jordan's small hands twirled around his fingers, and she sat close enough for him to be surrounded by her perfume. She smelled like wildflowers. It was true calm, for a very small while. He could focus on her, on one human's interaction with another. This was what angel's missed. The soft touch of frail human skin, the warmth, the trust. He heard her even breathing, and knew that neither of them wanted to ruin the peace.

The bus ride took over seventeen hours. To a being that had lived through eons it should have seemed like seconds, but instead time slowed down. They sat next to each other, holding hands and breathing. After awhile they spoke softly to each other, she told him her favorite songs, about patients that had beaten the odds, about wistful, simple things. He told her about the Sistine Chapel, about the deserts of Africa, the beauty of nature. It was hard not to talk about beautiful things while looking at her, and it made Jordan smile to hear about other countries.

Cas felt that not nearly enough time had passed when the bus pulled into Des Moines. She untangled one of her hands and gestured towards his face, "It wouldn't be too rude to ask how this happened?" Her voice faded off towards the end. She was a nurse after all, and knew that some people didn't like to talk about their injuries, but she had been dying to know where the bruises and scrapes came from.

Castiel cleared his throat nervously and said, "I believe the term is war wound." He couldn't go into any further details on the subject. He sat up straighter, extricating his hands from hers and resolutely clutching his knees. He looked dead-ahead, but his eyes seemed to drop to the floor. He couldn't tell her about how reckless he had been, how violent towards his brothers.

What had felt very natural only a few moments before became painfully alien to him. He may be stuck in a human body, without any discernible remnant of power, but he was not a true human. Her brown eyes could not change that fact, even if they had distracted him from it. The bus pulled to a stop, and they said their goodbyes and he walked her to a cab before getting on another bus to Davenport, he would be with Sam and Dean soon. Hopefully he wouldn't be too late.

Castiel spent the next bus ride thinking. He knew from sharing Jimmy's mind what love was, and what he had felt with Jordan was different. He sighed. He knew it was because _he _was different. He wasn't an angel anymore, but he couldn't be called human. He did finally understand what Team Free Will was all about. He would no longer fight just for his loyalty to the Winchesters, but also for humanity to continue. Heaven was no paradise, it was lonesome replays. Shadows. He could fight wholeheartedly against the end of the world, because he would be fighting for her, and all of the wonderful happenstance of Earth. He still felt lost about what he was, about his inability to be as helpful without his powers, but he never again questioned the validity of the fight.

Jordan couldn't forget him. His sad face, or war wounds. She thought of him as her soldier, and remembering him always made her smile. She was happy she had lied to him. The serenity of those few hours was worth the twinge of guilt she felt. She was not in Des Moines to transfer to a new hospital, but to visit an old friend one last time. As a nurse she knew that treatment would not help her at the stage she was, and her one vanity was her hair. She died within three months.

Her heaven was that bus ride.


End file.
